Kiss of Fire
by Leolaws
Summary: She was crying. Her sister, her stubborn, oh so proud sister was crying, and she had caused it. She made those tears fall from her eyes, she made her hands shake and her look turn desperate. But there was no going back, nothing else to do. Her heart was breaking in her chest. Bellatrix/Narcissa.


The urgency in their actions was tangible. Their lips met with breathless moans; their bodies close enough to touch, but not quite so. They were hidden under some stairs, and the party was a few doors down, though neither of them cared. It had become difficult, to meet like this, to take proud in each other's reactions; it was so rare that they did not dare slow down for even a minute. Anyone could have walked by, anyone could have seen, yet it didn't stop them. They had always had this infatuation, this incomprehensible and completely reprehensible attraction. People wouldn't understand, but it did not matter to them. They had each other, and though it couldn't be official, it didn't take away much of their happiness. There were other obstacles then moral, of course. A man they never talked about; an obsession and a growing strike of violence. All of that stayed well enough alone, and when they met for these trysts, nothing else mattered but the connexion, the skin on skin contact, and the breathless declarations of love.

Narcissa was too selfish to give up on all of this. She couldn't let Bellatrix go, she could not even imagine her life without her sister in it. She was offended by her own behaviour, she thought herself to be terribly shallow, and _wrong_ ; yet her sister's embrace was not something she would abandon. Bellatrix had always had a difficulty expressing her affection. As a child, she had been sometimes cruel; always favouring one sister to the other. She showed her love more than talked about it, with thoughtless gestures that meant the world to Narcissa. It was a smile, sometimes a touch; the gift of a precious book or the most secret look. The proof of the dark witch's affection, and she was greedy for it, not matter the form it came from.

She could remember the first time all of this happened like it was yesterday. There was wind, and her sister had never been more beautiful. The snow fell on the British Isles like an endless Christmas, and they were close to the beach. There was urgency in Bellatrix' movements even then, when she had grabbed Narcissa with more force than necessary. She had breathed to close to her face, her breath terribly warm against her lips, and the youngest hadn't been able to help herself from staring. Her sister's hair had been wet from the snow, heavy and attractive, and she had thought of treading her fingers through the curls. When Bellatrix' lips met hers for the first time, she had been terrified. She hadn't been able to move, frozen and shocked to the bone, unable to think beyond the fact that her sister was kissing her. She didn't understand, at first, and the dark witch grew angry; she had paced and paced, raging against herself, calling herself such awful names that Narcissa hadn't been able to do much else then forcing her into a desperate embrace. Her dear sister, always so strong and yet so weak; so angry and so, so sad. She didn't resist after that. When Bellatrix kissed her again, she let her. When she started taking off her clothes, she did nothing; and when she laid her down on the warm coat, she opened her arms to embrace her. Their lovemaking left her breathless to this very day. Bellatrix had shown such tenderness, such care that Narcissa just couldn't resist any advances after that. The dark witch had been happy, relieved; quiet, for the first time in a long time.

And so it went on. Their trysts further and further apart, because of the raging war, of the blood on Bellatrix' hands, and the guilt that was tearing them apart. Narcissa couldn't help but think about her husband, her darling Lucius whom she loved — though maybe not enough — and her gorgeous Draco. She would have burned the world to the ground for him, just like Bellatrix promised her she would always do for her.

Bellatrix was dark nowadays, her moods unpredictable and her words cruel; yet at this moment, so very close to the heat of her body, to the affection she was giving away freely, Narcissa couldn't resist, wouldn't resist. It didn't matter that her husband was dancing a few feet away, that the possibility of them being discovered was heart-breaking; she couldn't push her off, couldn't give up those bruising kisses. Her hesitation was somehow noticed and Bellatrix let her go for a minute, dark eyes staring her soul and seeing right through her. "Cissy?"

The tender nickname made her shudder, and she smiled hastily, bringing a hand to her sister's cheek to stroke it. "Let's go upstairs." Bellatrix simply smiled, a pure smile — nothing like the grins or smirks that she always did those days — and grabbed her hand gently, before guiding them upstairs.

The fire was roaring in the hearth, Bellatrix' room plunged in a semi-darkness that created a tender mood. It smelled like a secret, like a cold day of winter, and the dark witch guided her sister to the fireplace, resuming their kisses with warm, passionate lips. Narcissa was on the ground before she realized it, already stripped of her gown, and her sister was divesting in front of her. Her body, once so perfect, was already too thin. She had scars, terrible reminder of Bellatrix' sole occupation. It made her grimace, and she thought of something else, not wanting to anger her lover. Her mind didn't stray long, the dark witch was pressing herself against her again; kissing the frown on her face, her lips, her jaw, the tender flesh of her throat. It made her shudder, it made her moan, and her sister's attentions only got more intense, more precise, searching for that moment when Narcissa would be forced to let go. She was kissing her stomach, and the blonde was breathless, thighs already spread and eager to feel her sister's tongue further down. She was wet, awfully so, and she didn't miss the pleased smile that erupted on Bellatrix' face when she noticed.

Bellatrix' lovemaking was nothing she had ever experienced. She was hot and cold, passionate and yet distant; she made her heart beat fast enough she was afraid she'd die. Every touch, every kiss was delivered as if Narcissa would be taken away from her at any second. Her touch was so intense she was almost sobbing by the time she was done, heart beating erratically and incapable of catching her breath. Bellatrix was looking at her, eyes full of love and possession, a dark glim to them that was awfully new. It scared her, she thought, the way her sister seemed near and yet so far away; she was slipping through her fingers, closer to that monster that had taken hold of her (and her husband).

She hid her face in her sister's neck, and she couldn't fight the tears that fell on her skin. She bit her lip, restraining the sobs, and clutched to Bellatrix' form, desperately. Her sister was shocked, frozen, and she tentatively pat her hand, uncomfortable with the show of emotions. "Cissy? What's wrong? Did I … Did I hurt you?" She seemed so scared then, and her heart broke; so she shook her head and looked at Bellatrix, a watery smile on her lips.

"It's nothing, I'm fine. I'm just … Happy." She was lying through her teeth, the image of Bellatrix lying in a ditch, dead, being the first thing on her mind. She couldn't help but think that her sister would be another death in this war, a wasted existence. It made her mad, it made her want to scream and shout, but she couldn't fight her sister on this; Bellatrix would get angry, she would get cruel, she would laugh and she would leave. "I wish nothing would ever change." She finally said, and she couldn't bare looking at the dark witch anymore. She felt a hand on her hair, another against her back, holding her as tenderly as possible. She was tracing meaningless patterns on her skin, joining constellations, and Narcissa focused on her sister's heartbeat.

"It'll be fine, Cissy. We'll be okay." It was a lie, another one, and though she heard it, she said nothing. She wanted to believe this lie, wanted to believe that they could get through this without wasting their life; that they could finally breathe without restrain. Wishful thinking, nothing more than wishful thinking. She couldn't help it.

If they fell asleep, she didn't realise. The fire was now burning low, almost dying, and she felt cold. Bellatrix was sleeping still, her face peaceful and oh so gorgeous. She traced the proud line of her jaw with her finger, watching in wonder the quiet tranquillity of her sister. She seemed so vulnerable then, so open. She wanted to paint her, keep this expression forever. She stared for what seemed like hours, crying silently as she did. This couldn't go on any longer. Even though no-one knew, even though no-one would ever know; this relationship was killing her inside. She wanted her sister's affection, but she couldn't bare being so close to her and discover her dead someday. She didn't want to feel this pain: the loss of a lover. She wouldn't be able to survive it.

Her sister was awake, and she hadn't noticed. The brown eyes were looking up at her, and she was transfixed, unable to look away. "You've been crying again." The words were quiet, and Narcissa couldn't help but smile a little. There was a question in that look, and the blonde took a sudden breath, terrified. "I can't do this anymore, sister." Her voice was shaking, and she saw the shadows overcome her sister's face. She tried to swallow, suddenly scared.

"What?" The word was harsh, and Bellatrix as already getting up, staring Narcissa down in her anger. "What are you talking about? What _can't_ you do?" She was playing stupid, that much was clear for both of them. She was making the blonde say the words, and it was so very cruel Narcissa turned away for a second. "This. You. Loving you, this way. It's … It's killing me." A growl was her answer and she looked at Bellatrix again. She was pacing, fingers clenching and unclenching, and she couldn't help but feel guilty about being the cause of such distress. But she had to think about her family, her beautiful son. She couldn't save Bellatrix, no matter how hard she tried.

"You don't mean it." Desperation. That's what it was. Grasping at straws. Her sister was desperate, denying the truth of her confession. "I … do. Bella, please …" She was losing her; she could see it with her very eyes. Her darling Bellatrix, so very beautiful, so strong, was falling further and further down, and she couldn't catch her, not anymore.

"Cissy, Cissy you don't mean it. You can't mean it. Please, _please_ don't leave me." She was crying. Her sister, her stubborn, oh so proud sister was crying, and she had caused it. She made those tears fall from her eyes, she made her hands shake and her look turn desperate. But there was no going back, nothing else to do. Her heart was breaking in her chest.

"I have to think about Draco, about Lucius. This … This isn't _healthy_. It shouldn't be. It should never … _never_ have happened." But she didn't regret, how could she when those moments spend in her sister's arms had made her so happy. Bellatrix was stricken, though, her pride hurt and her heart teared apart. She was dressing now, hiding away her vulnerability beneath her clothes, her forever present corset. She was putting on her armour, disappearing behind Bellatrix, Voldemort's most faithful.

"You're going to regret this, Narcissa. I can promise you that. You'll regret it." She knew she would, but she couldn't say anything else. The door slammed, her sister exiting the bedroom in a hurry. Fleeing. She never did so. Yet Narcissa had just broken her heart right along with her own, and she felt the need to flee as well. She simply slipped beneath the thick covers, unable to get warm. She was shacking, shivering, wrecked by guilt, and longing. She didn't sleep that night.

* * *

 **Trying out a little Cissatrix there. At first I intented it to be a little bit more happy, but then this just happened.**

 **I don't think I'll be writing a sequel to this, but you never know.**

 **Thanks for reading.**


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